


ghosts of Christmas

by iamasecret, womenlovingwonderwoman (The_Camel_Queen)



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Holidays, Reconciliation, SO MUCH FLUFF, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamasecret/pseuds/iamasecret, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Camel_Queen/pseuds/womenlovingwonderwoman
Summary: The holidays have lost the magic they once held, back when Adora and Catra were together. But a chance encounter on Christmas Eve may be the ghost of Christmas yet to come that they need—if they can manage to recognize one another, after all these years.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

The car lost traction, skidding away, carrying Adora dangerously close to the traffic barrier at the edge of the road. She gritted her teeth, fighting against the stupid steering wheel, trying to regain control and swerve back into her lane. 

_ Must be black ice,  _ she thought.  _ Dang— _

The car miraculously swerved back in the other direction, swinging her past the yellow line into the lane for oncoming traffic. But she didn’t see any looming headlights through the overwhelming white mass of snowflakes flying into her windshield _ — _ didn’t expect to see any, in the middle of nowhere at three in the morning on Christmas Eve. 

_ Thank God.  _

The voice in the back of her mind drawled something about a Christmas miracle, but she ignored it. 

This side of the road gave at least slightly more traction to her car’s tires, and Adora inched back over into her lane, narrowing her eyes at the road. She couldn’t see any more ice, but that was kind of its secret weapon, wasn’t it? 

Once she seemed to be in the clear, metaphorically speaking, Adora took a deep breath, relaxing her tight grip on the steering wheel just slightly. She’d even put her snow tires on, this winter, after the debacle of last year that’d almost led to Glimmer forcing her to see a therapist, but it seemed like the universe just had it out for her and her beater of a car. 

As Adora’s pulse slowed and her ears started working again, she realized that the radio was still getting reception, apparently. 

_ She'd been drinking too much eggnog, _

_ And we begged her not to go—  _

Her hand couldn’t have shot out faster to turn the radio off. Silence was good, anyway. It fit with the wet cold it had been all week, and with the silence of the early-morning world blanketed in freshly-fallen snow. And it wasn’t like she’d fall asleep, not with the adrenaline now pumping through her system. 

The road ahead of her made a sharp curve around the mountain, and she slowed down even more, a solid thirty miles an hour below the speed limit. Even that worried her as she slid slightly around the turn, but it seemed okay _ — _

The steering wheel jumped in her hands, trying to force the tires straight again. 

_ Not again, dang it dang it— _

Adora fought the wheel valiantly. It took all her strength to get the car out of the turn without crashing straight into the mountain, and she let the wheel spin back straight. She braked carefully, muscling her way over to the barely-wide-enough shoulder, putting the car into park, and pulling the emergency brake up as high as she could get it. 

_ Must be the power steering,  _ she thought shakily, staring down at her trembling hands.  _ Almost crashing twice in one trip—in the span of about a minute—must be some kind of sign.  _

She was definitely not looking forward to what came next. 

Her phone had fallen off the passenger seat, and she reached over to get it, clicking it on. No reception. Of course not. 

She’d have to find somewhere to stick out the storm, then. Her car wouldn’t stay warm forever. The blizzard made it really impossible to see anything outside, but as she squinted through the slowly fogging-up windows, she managed to make out three flickering lights and a brightly lit red-and-white sign across the street a couple thousand feet away. 

The slippery cloth loafers, while good for driving, wouldn’t make it there, though. Her toes would freeze off. Adora sighed, reaching into the back to grab her gym bag. 

“Sorry,” she whispered, pulling on her court shoes, which had never before touched the exterior of a gym. “My toes are worth more than you.” 

The towel in the bag was tempting too, but it’d just get immediately soaked. 

_ Here we go,  _ Adora sighed, turning off the car and tucking the key and her phone into the interior pocket of her blazer. 

The car was already cold, but she steeled herself and shoved the door open against the strong wind, letting the wind slam it shut behind her. She locked it as she walked—better to walk slowly and surely than to run and fall—clicking twice to hear the beep, before tucking her hands into her armpits. 

The wind tore straight through her clothes. Her fingers were frozen in seconds, and she could feel the heat being stolen away from her core almost as quickly. 

_ Cold cold cold cold— _

A distance that would have normally taken her less than a minute to run took her almost five. But she fell against the door and it opened into  _ warmth. _

Of all the days to forget her coat...

She wrung out her hair on the stringy doormat, before letting it fall damply around her shoulders. Her glasses were completely fogged up, and she pushed them to rest on top of her head, squinting slightly at the interior of the diner. The five off-white tables, lit faintly by a couple of harsh, flickering lights, and set equally apart on the checkered, tiled floor, were all abandoned. 

Soft indie-alt music trickled through crackling speakers installed into the ceiling, rounding out the out-of-plane experience of a 24-hour diner past three in the morning. The music threw Adora for a loop, and it took her a second to realize why—but why wouldn’t they play Christmas music, on Christmas Eve? 

“Hello?” She called, taking a hesitant, squeaking step towards the bar. 

“Shit,” she heard muffled from behind the door to the kitchen, and a woman rushed in, ignoring the sound of something heavy and metal clattering to the ground behind the still-swinging door. She came to a somewhat-ruffled stop in front of her behind the bar, tucking her phone into a back pocket. “Sorry. What do you want?” 

The woman’s features were a blur, but Adora did manage to see a shock of dark hair and a black apron. 

“Uh,” Adora stuttered, walking hastily up to the bar and squinting at the yellowed menu above her. She couldn’t read it—oh, duh. 

She slipped her glasses off her head, wiping them hastily on her shirt and sliding them back onto her nose. 

The woman in front of her had blue eyes—green? It was hard to tell in the poor lighting—that sparkled dangerously back at her. The pink and orange pin in the corner of her black apron didn’t hurt in that department, either. 

No nametag. That was too bad. 

“Ma’am?” The waitress drawled, crossing her arms over her chest and smirking slowly. 

Adora fought back a blush, eyes darting up to the yellowed menu above the bar. “Could I get a coffee?” 

“Sure,” the waitress said. “That’ll be two eighty-six.” 

Adora fumbled for her wallet with wet and shaking fingers, sticking her credit card into the machine, staring at it until it beeped happily at her. She slipped the card out and back into her wallet. 

The waitress turned towards the back counter, reaching for a silvery packet of coffee grounds and pouring it into the filter. She slid the filter into the machine and started the new pot, reaching down to grab a mug from a shelf, but pausing as she set it on the counter. The smaller woman turned around, looking back at Adora with something akin to concern. 

It was only then that Adora realized just how badly she was shivering, her teeth chattering against one another, her muscles tightly clenched, trying to keep what little warmth remained beneath her icy clothes. 

“Hey,” the woman said hesitantly, “I have a blanket back there, if you want it.” 

“I’m o-okay,” Adora managed, even as hope rose within her. 

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that—your lips are blue, by the way—and just…” The woman disappeared behind the door to the kitchen and reappeared seconds later with a red-and-white plaid fleece blanket. She set it awkwardly on the counter in front of Adora, who grinned as gratefully as she could with numb lips. 

Adora reached excitedly for the blanket, stopping just inches above its promised warmth. “Is th-there a bathroom?” She asked, not wanting to soak the borrowed blanket. 

The waitress pointed her into the corner of the diner, and Adora nodded her thanks, squeaking her way into the small room and locking the door behind her. 

Her jacket was completely soaked, the once-ashy-grey coming off as the patchy dark grey of the sky during a storm. She shrugged it off, shuddering again as cold water dripped down her neck, and considered her blouse. It would have to come off too, she decided, and unbuttoned it, fighting against slow-moving fingers, draping it carefully on the countertop atop her blazer. Her tank top was, thankfully, semi-dry. She stripped off her shoes and socks, wishing she could just take off her pants too.

Adora considered the air dryer next to the paper towel dispenser and waved her hands in front of both, crouching beneath the hot air as she dried her arms with the harsh paper towels. She squeezed her hair out into the towels, dried her pants as best she could under the stream of hot air, and finally felt dry enough to use the woman’s blanket without guilt. 

She walked barefoot back into the diner—it looked clean-ish—setting her pile of clothes on the seat next to her. She sat at the bar, ignoring the way her underwear stuck immediately to her butt. She draped the blanket around her shoulders, curled a little in on herself, and grinned at the coffee that was placed under her nose. 

“Thank you so much,” Adora gushed, carefully cradling the mug against her chest and ignoring the sharp pain of too-warm drink against her too-cold fingers. 

“Not a problem,” the waitress waved it off, lifting herself to sit on the counter opposite Adora. “So, what’s your name? Since it seems like we’ll be stuck here together for a while.” 

“It’s A-” But something wasn’t quite right; something was telling her that telling this stranger her name might get her into some trouble. It didn’t quite make sense—what could this woman possibly do with her  _ first name— _ but Adora couldn’t shake the feeling. Better safe than sorry. “Uh, it’s Alexa.”

“Alexa, huh?” The waitress smirked, and Adora felt completely transparent, her heart rising in her chest. “Well,  _ Alexa,  _ I’m Catherine. Nice to meet you.” 

_ She didn’t call me out,  _ Adora thought, catching a sigh of relief before it could escape her. And,  _ Catherine. Hm. Seems a little old-fashioned, a little conservative. Doesn’t quite fit.  _

“What brings you out here so late, and so wet?” 

Adora crinkled her nose at the reminder of her wet underwear, and she flipped her damp hair out from under the blanket, off of her back.  “Well, I’m driving to my friend’s for Christmas. She lives a couple of cities over from me, and I’ve been driving since—” Adora pulled out her phone, clicking it on, but it didn’t respond. “Dammit.” 

“Need a charger?” 

“Yeah, thanks—” Adora said, but the woman had already disappeared back behind that free-swinging door. 

Adora took a sip of her coffee and frowned down at it. It tasted sweet —sweeter than she’d order it, but just as sweet as she’d make it at home, if nobody was watching. 

She hadn’t asked for sugar, had she? Was she that easy to read? 

The brunette came whirling back into the bar wielding a charger and plugged it in behind the bar, holding out a hand. Adora passed her the—thankfully mostly dry—phone, and she plugged it in, setting in on the counter beside her and sliding back up to sit next to the coffee pot. 

“What time is it?” Adora asked. 

“Like three-thirty.” 

“I was supposed to be there like five hours ago,” Adora frowned, taking another sip of her coffee. “I got held up at work and didn’t leave until late, and then my stupid car had to go and break down in the middle of—sorry.” 

“No, you’re absolutely right. Middle of fucking nowhere.” Her voice was a well of bitterness that Adora didn’t even know how to start to address. 

“Are you—do you like working here?” 

“Pays the bills,” Catherine muttered, scuffing the toe of one boot against the heel of the other. “And it’s better than—than other places.” 

There was a story there, Adora knew, but the furrowed brow and downcast eyes of the other woman told her not to pry.

“I, um, I’m glad?” Adora said, studying her body language and deciding to move on. “Well, how’d you end up with the graveyard Christmas shift? Seems like they might just close—there’s nobody here, anyway.” 

“I volunteered,” the waitress shrugged, shaking off her earlier disquiet. “Didn’t have any plans, so I figured I might as well take the bonus. Plus—don’t tell my boss, but we usually only get about two customers even on a—” she gestured out the window, where the parking lot was completely obscured by the falling snow—“good-weather night, so I end up sleeping most of the shift. Not a bad gig for a hundred bucks a night.” 

Adora hummed. Something about Catherine was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. Maybe her seemingly brash exterior hiding a softer side reminded her of Glimmer. 

She’d figure it out later. 

“Yeah, sounds like a pretty good deal,” Adora supplied, remembering that she was probably expected to respond. “I guess that explains the non-Christmasy music, too.”

The woman paused, tilting her head to listen to the quiet music.

_ You gave her your sweater _

_ It’s just polyester, but you like her better _

_ Wish I were Heather. _

She huffed, looking back down to examine her nails. “Yeah, well. Christmas has never been a great holiday for me, so. May as well listen to music I actually like.” 

“I know what you mean,” Adora said, remembering the dismal Christmases with Weaver, and the utter lack of holiday cheer present in the dark, dirty house, made survivable only by Catra’s presence at her side. She shuddered unconsciously. “I didn’t ever have a really great Christmas, growing up, but the past few years have been better. I was actually excited to go to my friend’s house this year.” 

Catherine started, looking down at Adora’s phone. “It’s charged enough,” she said, tugging out the charger and passing it over. 

Eight missed calls from Glimmer, and two from Bow. Well, that was unsurprising. 

She hit Glimmer’s name from the home screen and waited, hoping she was still awake. 

“Adora?” Glimmer’s high, worried voice filtered through the only-slightly-water-damaged phone speaker. 

“Hey, Glimmer,” Adora said, feeling some tension drain out of her at the sound of her friend’s voice. 

“Where are you? We’ve been so worried—well, Bow is asleep, but I’ve been so worried—”

Bow’s voice came quieter through the speaker, deep and drowsy. “Glimmer, you were definitely asleep too.” 

“That’s beside the point! Where are you?” 

“I’m, uh, about an hour away still.” 

“What? Why?” 

“My car broke down in the middle of nowhere, and it’s snowing, and I probably almost got hypothermia, but I found this diner and the waitress is very sweet—”

Adora heard the plastic noise of Glimmer checking behind her blinds and stopped, waiting. 

“The snow’s about two feet deep here. There’s no way I’ll be able to come get you until after the roads are cleared.” She turned away from the phone, spoke quieter. “Bow, what time do the snowplows usually come?” 

“About ten,” Bow murmured, voice muffled, probably by his pillow. 

“I’m so sorry, Adora, but you’ll have to stay at the diner until then,” Glimmer said. “Send me the address and I’ll probably be there around eleven, eleven-thirty.” 

Adora felt her face fall. A Christmas morning spent in a diner in the middle of nowhere was definitely not ideal, but beyond that, it would give her a solid eight hours alone here to do nothing but play on her phone and reflect on awful past Christmases. 

“That’s alright,” Adora said, forcing a smile and hoping Glimmer wouldn’t be able to hear her despondency. “I’ll just… stay here, I guess.” She looked up at the waitress. “What’s the address of this place?” 

The waitress looked back at her searchingly, fingers knotted together in her lap. “It’s, uh,” she paused, fidgeting. “You know what, my shift ends at four. Do you just want to come home with me? I can drive you to your friend’s place later. It’ll save you from having to sleep here—I can tell you from experience that it’s not very comfortable.”

Adora gaped at her. “Really?” She asked, and Glimmer squealed in her ear. 

“Did she just invite you over?” Glimmer asked. “Bow, wake up, Adora’s got a date—”

“Shut up,” Adora hissed down into her phone, then looked back up at the waitress. “I mean, if it wouldn’t be a problem?”

“‘Course not,” she shrugged. “You don’t have plans, I don’t have plans, may as well not have plans together back at my apartment where there are, y’know. Beds.” 

“Thank you—yes, I’d love to—” Adora managed.

Glimmer cheered. “Adora’s got a da-ate,” she sang. 

“Go, Adora,” she heard Bow chorus sleepily. 

“I’ll call you later today, okay?” Adora huffed, hitting the “end call” button and letting her phone clatter to the counter. She glanced back up at the waitress, rubbing her forehead and grinning sheepishly. “Thank you, really.” 

“Not a problem. Like I said, it might be nice to have some company.” 

Adora took the last sip of her coffee, setting the still-warm mug back on the counter. “Thanks for the coffee, too. You guessed my order exactly.” 

“Seemed like it fit you,” the waitress said, smiling slightly, a smirk that again gave Adora a sense of déjà vu. 

The bell at the door of the diner rang, and a tall blonde person was blown onto the doormat. 

“Oh! Hello,” they gushed, delicately squeezing out their hair onto the mat, the mirror image of Adora not fifteen minutes earlier. “There aren’t usually people here at this hour.” 

“Hey, DT,” the waitress drawled, already reaching under the table for something and tossing it to DT faster than Adora could see.

They uncorked it—a flask of some sort—and took a swig. “Darling, it’s lovely to see you. And your… friend.” 

“Hi,” Adora said, glancing between the two of them. A weirdly-charged energy had been swept into the diner with this person’s arrival, and Adora really didn’t have a clue how to address it.

“It’s snowing up quite the storm out there, you’d better leave before it becomes impossible,” DT winked at Catherine. “I can just start my shift now, if you want.”

The hope that they could leave now—that Adora could maybe shower, get into some dry clothes—pushed the bizarre atmosphere into the corner of her mind

“I’d appreciate it,” the waitress said, another genuine smile tugging at her lips.

Adora couldn’t help but smile in response. 

The woman disappeared again behind the loosely-swinging kitchen door, reemerging in a thick black coat, and handing Adora an umbrella. 

“My car’s just out back,” she said, gesturing back into the kitchen, and Adora quickly pulled on her mostly-dry jacket and followed. 

They paused at the door, Adora tightening the blanket around her shoulders, the waitress holding the umbrella above them both, before racing to the car, both slipping, but neither falling. Adora slid around the hood, laughing as she lost her balance, grabbing onto the door handle to stabilize herself. 

Adora fell into the passenger seat, shutting the door carefully behind her and directing the heaters at her. It was, if possible, even colder outside than before, but it didn’t quite feel it. 

Catherine flipped on the cabin lights, rummaging around in the full center-console box, coming up with a hair tie.“Here,” the woman said, offering it to Adora. “I noticed you fidgeting back inside—I can’t stand wet hair on my back, either.” 

Adora thanked her, scraping her hair carefully into a ponytail. The heat blowing across her layers of still-damp clothing, drying them, was completely worth the foggy glasses. 

She slipped them off, drying them on the hem of her shirt. She lifted them up to her eyes again, squinting. Still too foggy, and how were there  _ fingerprints _ —

“Adora?” The woman next to her breathed, the rasp of her voice around Adora’s name suddenly surreally familiar, and Adora looked over, heart rising high to the stars. The wide eyes, blue and yellow suddenly clear in the harsh lighting of the car, the smattering of freckles across her nose—

_ “Catra?”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, welcome to my and womenlovingwonderwoman's semi-late holiday fic! hope you really enjoyed it--let us know what you think :) it is the fluffiest dang thing that I have ever written, and I am living for it. 
> 
> the second chapter will likely be posted tomorrow. 
> 
> hope you had a wonderful holiday!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's some lesbianism i'm not gonna lie

Catra didn’t have to be happy to see Adora again, right? Adora the traitor, the heartbreaker, the abandon-er. Catra definitely did not have to be happy. 

“I can’t believe it’s you! I’m so happy to see you!” Adora pulled her into a clumsy hug across the dashboard that Catra barely remembered not to push away. 

“Yeah, me too.” Dammit Catra. “Since when do you wear glasses?”

“Uh, ha, uh—yeah. I mean. I’m sorry I’m just still—Catra. In the flesh,” Adora was grinning at her like an idiot. “How are you?”

“Just peachy,” Catra said. “You look good.” Dammit Catra. “I mean like, rich. Like you have money now.”

“Sure,” Adora smirked and Catra remembered she always kept a switchblade on the driver’s side door. “And I’m definitely not rich. These are—were—the nicest clothes I own. Have to dress up for court.” 

Catra rose her eyebrows. 

“I’m a lawyer,” Adora said quickly. 

“Fancy,” Catra said. 

Adora blushed, or maybe it was the cold? “Not really. It’s mostly pro-bono stuff.”

“Figures. You always were a bleeding heart.” Catra rolled her eyes and put the car into gear, pulling out a little slower than she normally would. 

That was not really, strictly, true. Back in high school Catra had been a dick to everyone she met, and Adora hadn’t been that different. Oh, Adora got along with teachers, but she fucked around the same as Catra with the other kids. Occasionally it went beyond petty pranks, but even then, it wasn’t like Adora stopped her. She’d sit back and wash her hands of it, and Catra always took all the blame. 

Adora ended up being the valedictorian, despite Catra having better grades. Something about Catra’s “disciplinary record.” You set one teacher’s car on fire and suddenly you’re a pariah. 

“So what’s new with you?” Adora asked. 

“Well instead of living in our old shitty small town, I now live in this one. And instead of waitressing part time at that shitty diner across from our high school I now waitress full time at this one. And, of course, instead of living with a bunch of terrible orphans for roommates, I now live with only two terrible orphans for roommates.” 

“Oh, um, uh, cool?” Adora wasn’t making eye contact, good. Maybe Catra wanted to punish her, just a little. It’d been almost a decade but sue her, one of Catra’s talents was holding grudges. 

“So you’re a lawyer now? You went to law-school too?”

“Yeah mostly criminal law, but the practice does some environmental stuff on the side. That’s mainly my friend Mermista’s purview though.” 

This was awkward right? What was Catra supposed to say to that? ‘Omg I’m so glad you abandoned me to fulfill your dreams and then did and have made new better friends on top of that! Go team!’ She’d sound like Scorpia. 

“DT seemed cool,” Adora said. 

Catra blinked, “They’d like you to think so, yes.” 

“Are they one of the, um, terrible orphan roommates?”

“Oh, no, that’s Scorpia and Entrapta. Scorpia’s meeting her girlfriend’s family and Entrapta is spending Christmas with her partner Darla. So, you’ll be stuck with me all alone.” 

“That sounds like your worst nightmare.” Adora grinned, “Oh man, we are totally gonna bond.”

In spite of herself Catra was aware she was glowing, she tried to tamp it down. “There’s a great hotel near my house actually, it’s called Build-A-Fucking-Igloo.”

“Can you also Build-A-Bear?”

“I’m going to crash the car.” 

Adora hadn’t changed that much since they were kids, Catra decided. Well, she had gained about a hundred pounds in pure muscle but after living with the wall that was Scorpia that didn’t impress her much. It did, however, pose a problem. 

Catra had no food at home. 

Okay, no, she did have food at home. She just didn’t have bodybuilder food at home. She had a bag of doritos, (cool ranch because she’s festive), and enough eggnog and frozen pizzas to get through Christmas alone. 

Pulling into the parking lot of her shitty apartment building Catra was also reminded she lived in a shitty apartment building. Oh man this was gonna be great. 

“We’re on the seventh floor and the elevator is busted so. I hope you like stairs.”

“Second to elevators they’re my favorite way to climb.”

“Don’t get smart with me.” 

Adora, because of course, did not have nearly as much trouble with the stairs as Catra. And Catra had spent most of her shift napping. Knowing Adora, the girl probably hadn’t slept in a week working on some stupid case for a stupid homeless person who’d been falsely accused of killing a puppy and they needed money for their deaf child’s cancer medication or something. 

“Here we are,” Catra pulled out the bobby pins from her hair. 

“Uh, is this actually your apartment?” Adora asked. 

Catra began fiddling with them in the lock, it was a careful balance of not breaking it while still getting in. “Scorpia took the keys but don’t worry, this place is real easy to break into.”

“Greeeeeeat,” Adora dragged it out and Catra rolled her eyes. 

“Sorry we all can’t afford to shop at Ann Taylors.” 

“This was from a thrift store,”

“ZARA is not a thrift store.”

She could hear Adora’s little huff and smirked, the locking finally clicking into place. “Welcome to casa de Weaver, we’re a shoes off household.” 

It was a relief to be home actually, after a grueling and boring shift and an emotional nuclear bomb of a reunion with her ex-best friend she was ready for the material comforts she had hobbled together in the tiny place she shared with Scorpia and Entrapta. Unfortunately, before her very eyes the place transformed into a sty. 

It was like the first time she was actually seeing the place. The blankets and pillows were stained with various snack dust, the ceiling had a gross leak, the floors hadn’t been swept in years, there was stuff everywhere. A mix of Scorpia’s makeup pallets, Entrapta’s notes and tools, and Catra’s junk art supplies piled high on all the tables, and the sink was filled with dirty dishes. She had done those earlier, hadn’t she?

“I wasn’t expecting company, Princess,” Catra sneered and Adora blinked. 

“Did you—did you do this?” She gestured to some of the prints on the wall and Catra rolled her eyes. 

“You’ll take Scorpia’s bed, Entrapta’s is probably booby trapped.” She nodded her head down the hall (could it really be called a hall? How had she not noticed how tiny this place was?) and Adora glanced down there. 

“Uh. Great. Thanks again.”

“Whatever.” 

“So,” Adora shoved off her shoes. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything I could um—” She looked down at her clothes then back at Catra. Right! Crap! “Change into would you? I’m so sorry if that’s a—”

“It’s no problem I’m just not sure if anything I have will actually fit.” 

Adora is fucking stacked is the problem.

“Oh! Right! Of course! No worries! I didn’t mean, or, I’m actually fine if, um…” Adora trailed off, ever the eloquent speaker. 

“Let me check Scorpia’s room.” 

She shrugged off her own shoes and padded down the sorry excuse they had for a hall and into the sorry excuse they had for a third bedroom. Technically it was an office but their landlord was evil and always looking to make a cheap buck squishing them into these units like sardines. Which, considering they were surrounded on all sides by cow fields, was ridiculous. 

She grabbed a sweatshirt, some sweatpants, and a Brandi Carlile tee Catra had gotten her when they went to her concert together. She wasn’t gonna bother guessing about bra sizes so Adora was just gonna have to suffer. 

“Bathroom’s down the hall and to your left,” Catra said, tossing the clothes in Adora’s direction. Adora caught them and nodded, quickly changing as Catra plopped on the truly hideous couch, absentmindedly playing with the remote. They had gotten the couch cheap online and it matched none of the furniture. Well, none of their furniture matched. And not even in the cool hipster way, in the ugly way. 

“So,” Adora stuck her head out from the bathroom, “I just drank a cup of caffeinated coffee. I’m not going to bed anytime soon. Would you—um, would it be alright if I stayed up and like watched a movie or something?”

“Are you not wearing pants?”

“Right!” Adora’s head disappeared and a second later it reappeared. “So would that be okay?”

“Are you wearing a shirt?” 

Adora paused, looked down, before stepping out of the bathroom, “Yes I am.” She plopped down next to Catra, a little bit closer than Catra would’ve guessed but not nearly as close as they did in high school. “So could I watch something?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Catra said, her voice cracking a little and she suppressed the flinch, “We could watch a movie.” Adora’s eyes widened and Catra wanted to flinch. But it was her house, wasn’t it? She didn’t have to be invited to activities in her own house.

“No yeah, of course! I mean if you’re not tired.”

Emotionally? Catra could sleep for a year. Physically? Catra was almost too wired to remember her own name. 

“Do you remember how we used to watch the first Harry Potter movie every Christmas, because it had the one scene with Christmas in it?” Adora asked.

“Oh yeah,” Catra grinned, “What always got me was how much Weaver loved those movies.” 

“Yeah well,” Adora rolled her eyes, “She always thought she was Dumbledore rescuing us and not the Dursleys.”

Catra shifted, she was so not ready to talk about this. Especially not if they were gonna pretend to talk about the quite honestly outdated book series that had ruled their adolescence. 

“Well we can quote that movie backward and forward. Die Hard?”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

Catra smirked. 

“How about something, lighter?” Adora handed the remote on a nearby table to Catra who plopped down next to her, but as far as physically possible on the cluttered couch. “There must be some new Hallmark movie.”

“I’d physically rather die than watch straight people make bad decisions.”

“Oh,” Adora blinked rapidly, “Me too. I mean. Yes. I agree.” Catra narrowed her eyes. 

“What.”

“Nothing! Nothing. I just didn’t—I mean—of course!” Adora laughed nervously. 

“Adora, I’ve been out since like the first grade.” 

“You have? I mean, yes,” Adora nodded, aggressively, “And I definitely knew that. I one hundred percent was completely aware of the fact that you are not straight.” 

“Oh my god,” Catra rubbed her eyes. “Did you miss the lesbian pin?”

“I mean no—”

“Why did you think I offered to take you back here?”

“Okay but once I realized it was you know, you, I thought it was like—you were an ally. And because it was out of the goodness of your heart?” She ended it like a question, blushing a little and Catra gaped at her. 

“I remember you being smarter than this.”

“Really?”

“I’m putting on a Christmas Carol.” 

“Works for me.” 

They kept their distance Adora kept her hands clasped in her lap and Catra picked at a stray string on the couches arm rest. The movie’s boring classical intro started and Catra thought about the girl next to her. Weaver hated this movie, Catra was never actually sure why but she did—she despised the movie. She hadn’t seen it until Scorpia had brought her to a showing of it last year on one of their first (and only) dates. How was it that when she was all prepped for another terrible holiday, Adora had to come in and change it? How was Adora so good at just—making Christmas seem more like Christmas?

The Christmas after she graduated and had run off to Bright Moon Catra had spent the day setting Kyle’s clothes on fire and timing to see how long it’d take for him to notice. Eventually Rogelio and Lonnie had stopped in for a visit and the three musketeers had gone out together to someone’s holiday party. They invited Catra but it wasn’t genuine. She was just an afterthought. Like always. 

It honestly hadn’t felt like anything, like another Friday night. Lonnie and Rogelio frequently stopped by and everytime they did Weaver never hesitated to remind Catra how unfortunate it was Adora didn’t feel the need to do the same. How it was Catra’s own fault. 

But with Adora here, even watching a movie they had never been allowed to watch together, Christmas honestly felt a little more tangible. Like a thing, and not just another consumerist ploy to get broke people to pawn their precious pocket change. It felt like it had when they were kids: special. Not just another Friday night. 

She closed her eyes, trying to savor it. 

Catra woke up a lot warmer than she should’ve been, her back ached a little but she really didn’t want to move. 

“Okay,” Adora’s voice was really quiet, and coming from above her. “I definitely don’t have the courage to say this when you’re awake—” Catra fought off the smirk, keeping her breathing steady, “—but I always thought you were straight. I mean. In hindsight it was dumb, but—I guess you never came out to me? I thought you were straight and I was the idiot in lo—” 

Nope

Catra got up and stretched, from her position practically on Adora’s lap. Lovely. “Is this the Polar Express?” 

“Yeah,” Adora’s voice was kinda high-pitched. “Christmas Carol ended awhile ago.” 

“What time is it?” Catra blinked around and Adora was studiously not making eye contact. Probably wondering how much Catra heard. 

“Six. Maybe you should go to bed.”

Catra rubbed her eyes. “Still hyped on coffee?” 

“I’m bound to crash soon.” 

“Hear from your friends yet?” 

“Glimmer said she’d come around 10, but she never gets up before that.” 

“Hm.” Catra glanced at the movie. After Weaver went to bed they’d sneak downstairs and watch one last movie, usually this one, and decide to stay up and wait for the Polar Express. They both said they’d wish for a big house, one they could live in together with no adults and no school and just the two of them and a lifetime supply of hot chocolate. 

“I missed you,” Adora said. 

Catra looked at her, “You didn’t have to.”

Adora sighed—maybe she was already crashing. “You said if I left you never wanted to hear from me again.”

“I was like, sixteen Adora. Not an age exactly known for long-term planning.” 

“We always had a plan.” 

“Yeah, well, plans change. You changed them. I stuck to my end of the bargain.” 

“I had to leave.” 

Adora did that thing where she tilted her whole body, rotated all around so her focus was singular and entirely on Catra. It used to make her feel like the center of the world but now she just felt like a trial attorney questioning the sole surviving witness of her crappy life choices. But it wasn’t Catra on trial, it was fucking Adora. And Adora was not gonna get away scot-free. 

“So did I,” Catra hissed, because it was bad for both of them but at least Adora got three meals a day, wasn’t waking up with nightmares. “But I didn’t sneak behind my best friend’s back to apply to a school halfway across the country.”

Adora leaned back, eyes widening. “You didn’t apply to schools at all. You just gave up!” 

It made Catra want to lean in, like a moth to a flame. It was six am and Christmas, and she was exhausted and Adora was blaming her for Adora leaving her. After almost a decade, Catra was still the scapegoat. 

“Why can’t you just apologize?”

Adora stood up and Catra matched her. “I shouldn’t have to! You’re the one who—you know what? Never mind. It’s been almost eight years Catra.” Catra crossed her arms, because out of the two of them she was not acting like a child; she had tried to be mature. 

“No, finish your thought. I’m the one who what? Tell me. What did I do so wrong that made you want to leave me?”

“It wasn’t about you,” Adora was gritting her teeth but Catra wasn’t gonna back off. 

“Oh, thank god. For a second I was worried you had taken my feelings into account. Glad we dodged a bullet there.” She had to calm down, she had to not let herself get so over—

“Would you stop playing the victim for five minutes?”

“Playing the victim?” Catra demanded, her fists clenched, for a minute, she considered punching her. “Playing the victim?! You left me alone in that house with fucking no one but Weaver. I’m not a victim, I’m a goddamn survivor.” 

“What was I supposed to do? Weaver kicked me out when I turned eighteen just like everybody else. Where was I supposed to go other than the only school that gave me a free ride? You told me you didn’t want me to talk to you again. You threw my phone in the washing machine!” 

It was all bullshit, it was all bullshit because other kids came back. Other kids came back all the time. Out of that entire stupid graduating class Adora was the only one who hightailed it out and didn’t look back.

“You want  _ me _ to apologize? For  _ that _ ?” Considering all the grief they’d put each other through, in the years that they’d known each other, it hadn’t even made the top ten. 

“It wouldn’t hurt!” 

“Well too bad.” 

Catra wasn’t in the wrong here. Definitely not. Adora could glare all she wanted. Catra did nothing wrong. “Fine, whatever. I shouldn’t have put your phone in the washing machine. Or stolen your jacket.”

“I knew you took it!”

“Yeah obviously.” Catra rolled her eyes. “But for the record, it looked way better on me.”

Adora gave a kind of half smile. “Everything looks better on you.” 

Catra shrugged, “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

Adora smile dropped and so did Catra’s stomach. Adora sighed and looked at her hands, “I’m sorry I didn’t stick around like I promised. And lied to you about the schools I was applying to.”

Catra clenched her jaw, crossing her arms. “And?”

“And for not owning up to the stupid car thing. Even if it was your idea.”

“You’re the one who can’t handle saying no to a dare.” Adora looked up, carefully and Catra met her eyes, evenly. So there was probably a lot more to deal with, to talk about. But maybe, maybe this Christmas wouldn’t suck, and maybe the next one wouldn’t either. 

Adora shoved her shoulder, lightly, “You knew that and you used that against me. Whatever, not that this isn’t fun, but I’m starving. What food do you have?” 

Catra fought the urge to roll her eyes again, “Only you could be thinking about food right now.” 

Adora grinned, “Merry Christmas, by the way.” 

Catra shoved her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay here are the facts: 
> 
> [iamascret](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamasecret/pseuds/iamasecret) is wonderful and that's a link to her a03 page where you can read her pacific rim AU, [total synergistics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26625235),  
>  which im betaing and her soulmate AU, [a dangerous partnership](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951121), which i am also betaing. she has already written chapter 3 but chapter 4, which will be written by me, is about as finished as the stack of dirty dishes i have in my sink. 
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [@womenlovingwonderwoman](https://womenlovingwonderwoman.tumblr.com/) and iamasecret at [@iamascret](https://iamasecret.tumblr.com/) where i suggest you send asks to us about this fic. if you want chapter 4 to be finished sooner i suggest you comment bc for every comment i will write 500 words. 
> 
> also. you should read my other fic it's really cool and good it's a canon au im not telling you anything else. Read it [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877491)


	3. Chapter 3

“Do you  _ eat?”  _ Adora gasped, staring into Catra’s mostly-bare, dusty cupboards. 

“Duh,” Catra huffed, peering over Adora’s shoulder. “Look, I have chips, Scorpia has flour and stuff, and there’s eggnog in the fridge.” 

Adora gaped at her, scandalized. “How do you—what—”

“Just because you burn about three thousand calories a day doesn’t mean we all do,” Catra snarked, crossing her arms and looking away, cheeks dusted a light pink. 

Squaring her shoulders, Adora turned back to the cupboard. “Well, we can pull something together, I’m sure. We can’t live off of Doritos on Christmas.” She stood on her tiptoes to reach the top shelf, pulling out the dry ingredients. Flour, sugar, baking powder, salt. A box of noodles. She spun to the fridge, yanking it open. Eggs, too. Maybe they could do pasta? Or sweet rolls, for dessert? That was festive, right? 

“How does pasta sound?” She asked.

“Don’t have any sauce,” Catra shrugged, “but otherwise, sounds great.” 

“I can probably pull something together,” Adora grinned. This was what she’d been preparing for her whole life, listening to all those episodes of The Splendid Table. A  _ challenge.  _

The fridge had tomatoes and green peppers, some of which looked like they were part of a science experiment—Catra had blamed Entrapta for that—but some looked almost normal. They probably wouldn’t have a blender, but she did at least need a paring knife. The kitchen drawers were completely disorganized, spoons mixed with tongs, forks with ladles, knives with teaspoons. Not a single paring knife, apparently. 

Catra eventually found it on top of the fridge behind a bag of paper plates.

“Would you cook the noodles?” She asked, and heard Catra hum in acknowledgment, followed by the rattling of pots and pans and running water. 

“Where did you learn how to cook?” She asked finally, as Adora tasted the sauce from the pan, considering. Needed… basil? Catra definitely wouldn’t have any. 

Adora tasted the sauce again, trying to arrange her thoughts. The question veered dangerously close to the topic of their earlier heated discussion—Adora leaving—and she’d have to be careful how she worded things.

“You know I got a scholarship to college,” Adora started slowly, turning away from the stove to look Catra in the eyes. “But it didn’t cover housing. I ended up living with an older couple who wanted some help around the house in exchange for the room. Mara and Hope.” 

Catra’s expression was neutral but encouraging.

She looked down, fidgeting with the towel in her hands. “I got really lucky, living with them. They were…” she sighed, remembering their acceptance, their unconditional love, almost unprecedented in Adora’s life. “I lived with them for four years while I was getting my bachelor’s, and then two more for my law degree. They were… God, Catra, I wish you could meet them.” 

Catra’s shoulders drew tighter at that, her eyes darting away, and Adora pushed through it. 

“Anyways, neither of them really knew how to cook, so I ended up making a lot of their food for them. And… six years of cooking offsets an entire childhood of… not.” 

“I’m glad I get to benefit from it, anyways,” Catra said, eyebrows drawn, and Adora hoped that she’d managed to say everything alright.

“And the glasses?” Catra prompted again, turning to the boiling water and turning it down slightly as she poured the entire box of noodles in, clearly unsatisfied with Adora’s previous non-answer. 

“Well, turns out the reason—or at least, one of the reasons—I had to work so hard to do well in high school was that I’m very near-sighted,” Adora laughed, suddenly self-conscious, re-adjusting them on her nose. “Mara and Hope got them for me, once they helped me figure it out. College was… a lot better.” 

“Good for you,” Catra said, so softly that Adora couldn’t tell whether it had been sarcastic. “Guess Weaver had it in for you, too.” 

It had taken a lot for Catra to admit that, Adora knew, so she smiled over and pushed down the urge to drown Catra in a hug. They probably still had a couple more things to figure out before that would be acceptable, but she’d never been great at reading social cues. 

“Guess so,” she said, instead of reaching out for the brunette. 

Catra had undoubtedly had it worse, with the more outward abuse directed at her, but the older Adora got, the more she realized how awfully she had been treated as well. Not only did Glimmer suggest that she go see a therapist about once a week, but apparently bi-annual visits to the dentist were a thing, as well as the yearly optometry appointment to update her prescription. Who knew. 

They sat across from each other at the two-person dining table, Adora with the majority of the pasta on her plate. The sauce had turned out red-and-green—it was by far the most festive thing in the apartment—and was surprisingly good, for only having tomato, green pepper, and salt in it. 

A dirty pane of glass looked out over the street, and as they ate, the sun rose, illuminating the corners of the kitchen. It was actually a pretty nice place, if you ignored the sad, bare state of the cupboards. The window faced the sunrise, which was something Adora didn’t know she’d even wanted in an apartment until now. A kitchen flushed in pure early-morning light would make getting up to go to the gym so much easier. 

The prints hung above the kitchen sink—done in a painfully familiar style—were nicer and more homey than the tiny $15 Van Gogh prints she’d gotten from the Met last year, too. While they were more muted than Catra’s prints she’d seen before, they were clearer and sharper, done with a more skilled hand. She tried not to read too much into the sense of bleakness present in the lonely dock staring at the moon, or in the solitary figure standing knee-deep in a snowscape. 

It was clear that Catra was comfortable there, which would make any place nicer than Weaver’s two-story suburban house had been.

Adora finished while Catra was still only halfway through. It hadn’t quite been enough, but she didn’t plan on working out today, so it’d probably be fine. 

She glanced out over the pale sunrise, where the sun had almost crested the horizon. Everything felt right, somehow, like something she hadn’t even known was out of place had clicked. Her next exhale brought a lowering of her shoulders, and the next, she closed her eyes, humming contentedly. It was  _ right.  _

Adora turned back to look at the woman who she hadn’t seen in years, and who she hadn’t expected to see ever again. “I’m  _ so  _ happy,” she whispered, watching Catra’s eyes reflect the light of the sun, “that I found you.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Catra snapped, but she looked away, tugging at her collar, and when Adora caught sight of her plate again, Catra had scraped her extra pasta onto it. 

Adora couldn’t stop smiling as she finished Catra’s pasta, her hunger finally abating. She washed the dishes at the sink, handing them to Catra, who put them away apparently completely randomly, opening cupboards arbitrarily and tossing the pots in. 

Catra dropped the last fork into what Adora had previously classified as the “spoons and tongs” drawer and slammed the drawer shut. They leaned against the counter, around the corner from each other, and Adora considered what to do next.

“We could—” she said, at the same time as Catra said, “how about—"

“You go,” Adora laughed. 

“What about sugar cookies?” Catra suggested, eyes darting away, and Adora remembered a Christmas years ago. 

They’d each scrounged up enough money to go Christmas shopping for one another, and they’d snuck out of the house on the 24th to visit the store around the corner. It didn’t have the largest selection, but it did have frosted sugar cookies, sold in plastic containers, and a tiny cafe with hot chocolate. 

They’d sat together in the corner booth, Adora’s arm slung around Catra’s shoulders, moving closer each time the sliding door had let in another customer with a gust of freezing air. It was one of hundreds of memories categorized under “when I fell in love with my best friend” in Adora’s mind. 

The soft music over the speakers, the warm drink, the cookies, and Catra— _ that  _ was maybe what Christmas was supposed to be like. 

“Sounds perfect,” Adora hummed, glancing back to smile at Catra, whose softened expression told her that she’d remembered the same moment. “D’you know how to make hot chocolate? You could probably even use the eggnog.” 

“I’m sure it can’t be that hard,” Catra shrugged, tapping at her phone. “It’s probably pretty easy to follow a recipe, anyways, right?” 

It took her a full minute to find the measuring cups, which she pulled out with an “aha!” 

Catra wordlessly pulled out a mixer from a just-as-messy lower cupboard and set it gently on the table, stepping back out of the way as Adora poured a cup of flour into the bowl. 

They danced around each other in the kitchen, Adora reaching up to get the cocoa powder from the highest shelf and passing it over, Catra slipping around her to find a whisk in what was apparently also the cheese grater drawer. 

“What kind of shitty hot chocolate recipe calls for salt,” Catra huffed, reaching past the mixer for the salt shaker. 

“Ooh.” Adora peered over Catra’s shoulder at the glowing screen of her phone. “You must have found a fancy one.”

“Do you actually like salty hot chocolate?” Catra asked, stirring in some salt crystals. “You always struck me as the sugar-and-spice kind of girl.” 

“I mean—hey! I’m not that predictable—” she remembered the three-sugars-coffee just a few hours ago. “Well, maybe I am. But variety is good, too.” 

The dough was ready. They wouldn’t have frosting, but they wouldn’t need the extra sugar, with the hot chocolate too. But Adora was about ninety-seven percent sure that there wouldn’t be a rolling pin anywhere, and holiday cookie cutters were a definite  _ no,  _ not with Catra in the house.

“We could… use a glass?” Catra suggested, and Adora laughed. What a dumb, perfect idea. 

So they rolled out the dough with the glass, and used the rim as a cookie cutter. Adora bit her lip, staring at the dough. They needed to use as much of the dough as possible, so what was the ideal configuration… 

She started in the corner, cutting the circles as close to each other as possible.

“We can just re-roll it after,” Catra pointed out. 

“Don’t patronize me,” Adora scoffed, eyes narrowing at the dough as she carefully cut the last circle and set it on the cookie sheet. 

Catra considered the scraps for a second before picking up a large section and dropping it into her mouth. 

Adora gasped. “Scandalous. I thought we were re-rolling it.” 

“It’s so much better this way,” Catra grinned through the dough, suddenly years younger, and Adora added another memory to the file.

A full-bodied laugh escaped Adora without her permission, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry—”

But Catra was  _ finally  _ laughing too, eyes crinkling at the corners, shoulders shaking. How many years had it been since she’d seen Catra laugh like this—so free and unabashedly joyful?

_ Since before the fight,  _ her brain supplied unhelpfully, and Adora shoved the thought under a rug. She was enjoying the moment, damn it—enjoying being in love with her best friend who ostensibly hated her, even after all these years.

Adora watched helplessly nonetheless, laughing along.  _ I am so screwed. _

As Adora was tied up in her head, Catra peeled up another piece of dough from the counter and ate it. 

“Wait, save some for me—” Adora snatched at one of the last couple of pieces.

“I thought you were worried about me eating enough?” Catra asked, mock-pouting, and Adora huffed. 

“Yeah, but…” she looked sadly at the dough, before closing her eyes and sighing. “You’re right, go ahead.”

“Adora, I was kidding,” Catra smiled, shoving a piece into her hands. 

She was embarrassed by how easily Catra read her, but still couldn’t help but to perk up as she ate the dough, even as Catra continued to laugh at her reaction. It was good dough.

As they slid the sheets into the oven, Adora began to feel the caffeine melt out of her system, replaced with a complete exhaustion that settled in her bones. She sagged against the counter slightly, and Catra looked up. 

“You all right?” She asked. 

Adora nodded, letting her eyes drift shut for a moment. “Just tired.” But if she was only going to be with Catra until Glimmer came to pick her up, she wasn’t going to let herself sleep. “I’ll be alright once I get some of that hot chocolate.” 

Catra shook her head, sighing. “Idiot. Don’t stay awake just to spite me, or whatever.” 

“It’s not that, it’s just—” Adora frowned, considering. “I just want to spend time with you, is all.” 

“Wish you’d felt like that when you were eighteen,” Catra shot back, but she looked like she regretted it almost immediately, arms wrapping around herself and chin dropping to her chest.

“I did,” Adora whispered, reaching out to grasp Catra’s arm. She didn’t move away, which was a win. “You know that I did. And whatever I can do to try and make it up to you now—if it means staying awake for the one day that we have together—I’ll do it.”

“It’ll take more than that,” Catra said, stepping away, but she pulled out two mugs from behind her bag of Doritos and poured out the hot chocolate, offering the mug to Adora as a sort of peace offering. 

Hope bloomed in Adora’s chest as she took the proffered mug. If Catra wanted more than this—maybe this didn’t have to be their last day together—maybe they could figure this out. Maybe Catra didn’t hate her as much as she let on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! iamasecret here. I've really enjoyed writing this, but this is goodbye from me on this one :( just one chapter to go--another Catra POV from womenlovingwonderwoman. 
> 
> thanks for all your sweet comments, we really appreciate it :) 
> 
> see the notes from the previous chapter for some other cool stuff we're working on that you should check out!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is late there was a coup

Oh god, Adora had her stupid face on. The one where she thought she was getting away with something. 

Catra sipped her cocoa. “Oh god this is gross! Why would Bon Appetit do this to me?” 

Adora smirked, “Can handle a little salt? Why am I not—” She took a sip and her entire face screwed in. “How much did you add?” 

“It’s not me, it’s the recipe!” Catra showed her her phone. 

“Um,” Adora blinked at it. “Right. Yes. I see. That is a bad recipe.” 

Catra narrowed her eyes and looked at it again. “‘Serves six.’” 

“It was an easy mistake to make.” Adora said, “I mean who makes hot chocolate recipes that serve six? That’s so weird!” 

Catra rolled her eyes. “Well it’s nine am, we’ve eaten dinner and cookies, and your friend is picking you up in about an hour. What do you wanna do?” 

“Hmm,” Adora frowned, “Let me actually text her and check in with her.” Catra nodded and resorted to actually cleaning up the kitchen, if only for something to do. 

When she turned back around Adora had her stupid face on again. “We could play Monopoly?”

Catra narrowed her eyes, “Oh my god. Have you actually been stewing over that for the last decade?” 

“No!” 

Catra waited. 

“Okay you cheated,” Adora crossed her arms, “I know you stole from the bank.”

“Stealing from banks is legal, it’s self-defense,” Catra shrugged. 

“So you admit it!” 

“To stealing from the Monopoly bank when I was a child?” Catra asked, raising her eyebrows, “Hell no. And I’m not playing that game with you. You always get way too intense. Remember when Kyle had to go to the hospital?” 

“He knew Boardwalk and Park Place are my properties. I always get them! He shouldn’t have bought them,” Adora said. 

She had shoved six hotels up his nose, without remorse, Catra had egged her on and without Lonnie and Rogelio to intervene (they were in detention for getting into a fight) Adora’s impulsivity won out. That and what was probably anger issues and bad coping mechanisms, looking back. Not that Catra ever did. 

Kyle took the blame, of course, but Rogelio hadn’t talked to Catra for a year because he assumed she did it. Lonnie had been more forgiving, until Catra was seventeen and woke up to her bike gone because Lonnie had sold it. Of course, Adora had been gone by then. 

“On second thought, maybe a walk would be better?” Catra suggested. “I mean you have real winter clothes now.” 

Adora’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! Let’s go on a walk.” 

* * *

Catra regretted her suggestion pretty much instantly, it was cold and she hated snow and Adora was way too happy. But Monopoly would’ve been a nightmare. 

She let them walk about twenty minutes, as far from the building as she could before she gasped. “Crap!” 

Adora looked at her. 

“I totally forgot I promised I’d text Scorpia! Can I borrow your phone?” 

Adora handed it over, looking concerned, “The password is—”

“Labor omnia vincit,” Catra finished, rolling her eyes. “You need a life. Desperately Adora.” The phone unlocked and Catra clicked on the text icon, then the most recent. 

**Adora** : don’t pick me up actually

**Glimmer** : !!!!!! go girl go!!!!!!

**Bow** : rooting for you!!!!!

**Adora** : <3

Catra smirked, turning back the phone to Adora. “Thanks.” 

Adora looked at it. “Did you text Scorpia?”

“I’ll do it when I get home.” 

Adora went very red and they began marching back through the snow to the apartment, Catra now feeling perfectly warm. 

“So you do criminal law?” Catra asked. “How’d that happen?” Adora looked at her. “I literally haven’t seen you in eight years. Why are you looking at me like that.”

Return of the stupid face. “No! Um, nothing. I mean. We were always totally delinquents, and my roommate in college, Glimmer, her mom ran a criminal defense firm. I’d hear about these cases Glimmer was helping with and they just—um. They sounded like us. Doing dumb stuff. But they got caught and we usually didn’t. So I wanted to help.” 

Catra stared at her. 

“Really?” 

“Well what are you doing?” Adora asked, face probably turning redder from the snow. “You can’t just be working at a diner. I know you. What are you planning?” 

Catra crossed her arms and looked away from her “Paying off my massive debt, and trying to—figure it out.”

“You always said you were going to art school, or would do art or something,” Adora said. 

Catra winced. “Yeah well. Plans change. I changed.” 

“Catra,” Adora put a hand on her shoulder and Catra stopped, but didn’t meet her eyes. “Okay, so you changed. We both did. That’s a good thing right? That we aren’t the same people we were in high school. Catch me up,  _ please _ .” 

“I got in a car accident,” Catra said. Adora probably gasped or something. “A year or so ago. Massive hospital bills. Couldn’t afford physical therapy so now my hand just, you know, doesn’t work. Chronic pain or whatever.” 

“Catra, I’m so sorry.” Oh god she sounded choked up. 

“It’s fine. I’m dealing with it. I just have to, you know, find something else.” 

Adora squeezed her shoulder and finally Catra met her eyes. They were watering. It’d probably hurt her face in this cold. “You will,” Adora whispered. 

They were too close, weren’t they? Way too close. Catra stood frozen to the spot. 

“Catra I—”

Catra ripped away, “Let’s keep walking, yeah? There’s some cool lights down this street.” 

“Okay,” Adora said, a lot quieter. 

Once, before Rogelio had gotten to the home but after Lonnie had, Weaver had trooped whoever dared get into a car with her and driven them about three hours to some Mormon temple or something. Catra remembered Adora dragging her along, and getting lectured by Weaver the whole way there about her grades, despite her still being in elementary school. It had all been worth it when the temple had come in view, lighting up that nothing empty sky with billions of lights. 

They had filed out, clutching each other as dozens, maybe hundreds of other families sat there staring too. Adora had taken her hand and in the light of all those lights, Catra thought maybe she could see the point of a religion, if it meant she got to look at Adora lit up like that. 

Needless to say, Catra did not know what a Mormon was. To this day the concept is hazy in her head, like mitosis and two percent milk, or the eventual heat death of the universe. 

The lights in her bunk neighborhood did not stack up either. The inflatables wiggled in the cool Christmas morning breeze, and as the sun started to rise higher in the sky any elegance of the few lights on the houses declined. A few nativity scenes were pretty enough, some families had menorahs along their windows, but those candles burned out early in the night. It was all pretty uninspiring. 

“Remember the lights at Weaver’s?” Adora spoke up. 

Catra furrowed her brow, “Uh, are you gonna kill me if I say not really?” 

Adora stopped. “What do you mean you don’t remember them? They were terrible!” Catra raised an eyebrow, and Adora gaped. “Okay so she had like one roll of them right? But they were from like the seventies so half of them worked. At best. And then every year it was mine and Rogelio job to put them up, because we were the tallest.”

“That would be why I don’t remember it then.”

“Oh right, because you don’t remember anything that doesn’t have to do with you.”

“Exactly,” Catra smirked, and Adora’s smile was sugar-cookie sweet.

“Glad we cleared that up. So Rogelio and I would put them up and then one year none of them worked. So Rogelio and I decided to leave school early and collect. Rogelio pointed out that since they all gave to the home as charity anyway it wasn’t wrong.”

Catra nodded. “Are you sure  _ you _ didn’t say that?” 

Adora went red. “Shut up. Anyway, we went around to all the houses and cut scraps from all the lights, not enough for anyone to notice just enough to patch together a line of lines.”

“You had no idea how lights worked,” Catra guessed and Adora covered her face. 

“We had no idea how lights worked. We were in so much trouble, no one had Christmas lights that year and Rogelio and I had to work all through the summer making money to pay everyone back.”

Something lit in the back of Catra’s skull, “No wait, I do remember that! That was the summer Weaver made us all learn how to swim but you couldn’t be there because you had that job at the snack shack. She tried to drown me.” Catra hadn’t touched the water since.

“She did not try to drown you,” Adora laughed. “Lonnie told me the whole thing.”

“Oh, so you trust Lonnie?” Catra demanded. 

Adora blinked, “What?”

Not thirteen anymore. “I mean,” Catra swallowed. “Lonnie lied was all. Weaver tried to drown me. Or maybe—maybe she just wanted me to think that to freak me out.” 

Adora’s smile was gone, “I didn’t—you didn’t tell me.”

Catra flinched, her voice much quieter. “Pretty sure I did.”

“I would’ve remembered,” Adora’s voice sounded much more feeble. Catra hated it. 

“Pretty sure your reaction was the same.” Catra looked away.

Adora’s face fell. “I—I’m sorry.” 

Catra’s heart throbbed, like it’d been stabbed, “I think it’s—I think it’s probably too late on that one.” 

Adora nodded.

* * *

They didn’t talk for the rest of the way and Catra led them back early. The street was starting to wake up anyway, sugar-hyped kids were opening gifts and exhausted parents were downing coffee. It was all quiet and quaint and the snow muffled it all, closed it off so Catra could only just barely hear the sounds of joy that didn’t include her. Just enough to know that it was there. 

The apartment felt darker, colder, quieter, when they got back. Catra shucked off her shoes but Adora stood in the doorway. 

“I can leave. If you want. I know you read my texts.” She didn’t sound angry, more tired. They’d been up all night. 

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Catra offered. She should’ve felt bad but she didn’t. Maybe she was too tired to do that too. 

“It’s not like it’s a secret.” Adora said. “That I—you know.” 

And why else would Adora have stuck around if she didn’t feel some kinda way about Catra? It was the only reason Scorpia did for awhile, and now she was thinking about moving out. 

“Why did you go?” Catra asked. “Why did you do all that? Lie to me. Leave. Never look back.” 

Adora looked down. “I tried to track you down a couple times. It never seemed like you wanted to be found.” 

“Answer the question.” Catra set her jaw. “I’ve been waiting eight years.” 

“It was the worst thing I ever did.”

“Yet you did it every day for eight years. C’mon, Adora!” Catra took a deep breath but all calm left her, only the rancid taste of exhaustion hung around her mouth and she wanted to scream. 

“What do you want me to say?” Adora’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left. I said that. Just—there wasn’t a future for me there. For anyone. I didn’t want to leave you.” 

“It was supposed to be our future,” Catra stepped closer, “We were supposed to be each others.” 

“You were supposed to come with me,” Adora said. “I left, I lied, but you were always supposed to come.” 

“Why would I have come? What would I have done? Who would I have been? Just followed you around like a pet?” 

“No!” Adora put her head in her hands, “We just—we could’ve been happy.” 

Catra scoffed, “You’re a criminal defense lawyer, with best friends who want to spend Christmas with you. You are happy.” 

“No,” Adora denied it so swiftly even her own eyes widened at the sentiment. “No I’m—I’m not happy. I’m not. Not really. I thought you never wanted to see me again. How could I be happy?” 

Catra stared at her, “I—”

Adora looked at her.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” 

She ran. 

Pulling her phone out of her pocket she dialed her emergency contact, shutting the door to her room. She opened a window as it dialed and shivered in the cold, grabbing the pack of Marlboros in her bedside, and the lighter. 

“Wildcat?” Scorpia said. “It’s early.”

“Adora’s here.” Catra let the smoke filter out in the breeze, relaxing as she caught that familiar scent. She had gotten herself down to a pack every couple of months and sometimes even the smell was enough. She took a drag. 

“How’s Adora there? And what do you mean there? You aren’t at the diner, right?”

“No, it’s DT’s shift,” Catra told her. “She’s here here. As in like, in the apartment.”

“Wildcat,” Scorpia sounded tired, it was early after all. “Are you okay? I can hear you smoking.” 

She put the cigarette out on the windowpane, lighting another. “Never better.” 

“Do you need me to come down?” 

“No.” Catra hesitated, “She said—she said we could’ve been happy.” 

“She said what?” Scorpia sounded awake now. “After what she did? Wildcat that’s on her. She lied to you and—”

“But I lied,” Catra swallowed hard, “I never told her how I felt. I knew how she felt but I thought—I thought if we got together and it didn’t work out or—I mean clearly I was right. She left me.” 

“How you felt?” 

“Scorpia,” Catra screwed her eyes shut, “Don’t make me say it.”

“Have you? Ever said it out loud I mean?” 

Catra took a drag and let that be her answer. 

“Oh, Wildcat, don’t you think—don’t you deserve to say your piece? Don’t you owe it to yourself to try? If she left already what’s the—what’s the harm?” 

“I’m not sure I could do it again,” Catra said quietly. 

“Sure you could! You’d have me, and Entrapta of course, the super pal trio has got your back.” 

Catra rubbed her eyes. It was no use arguing. She’d just have to— 

The front door shut.

“Fuck, I have to go.” Catra hung up and flicked the second cigarette, only about halfway burned, out the window.

“Adora?” She called, leaving her room. The apartment was empty. Adora had left, again. “Adora!” 

She grabbed her boots and stumbled out the door, down the stairs and out into the street. A blonde idiot was trying to walk to her broken down car apparently. 

“Adora what the fuck?” Adora kept walking and Catra gritted her teeth. “Are you kidding me? Where are you even going?” 

“Stop following me!” 

“Oh my god,” Catra did a sort of jog-shuffle after her in the snow, “We’re adults! Can you please just talk to me?” 

“Talk to you?” Adora whipped around and Catra stumbled back, “You’re the one that doesn’t want to talk!” 

“I just—I needed a minute. I wanna talk. I wanna talk to you.” 

Adora sighed and she rubbed her eyes, “Catra I can—I can go. I get why you don’t want me around. I understand that there’s no apologizing I could do that would—”

“Adora,” Catra cut off, and stepped closer, “If I had kissed you at homecoming would you still have left?” 

Adora gaped, and Catra clenched her fists, trying to keep eye contact but every second of Adora’s silence felt like the eight years she had already endured. 

“Did you want to?” Adora asked. 

Catra swallowed, “You first.” 

Adora looked away and Catra felt the world collapse. 

“Yes,” Adora whispered. “Probably. Would you have—would you have come with me?”

“Maybe,” Catra muttered, she rubbed her eyes now too, the day of no sleep catching up with her. “Probably not.” 

Adora nodded, “Glimmer and Bow will pick me up soon. I’ll wait in my car for them.” She made to leave but something leapt in Catra’s throat. She grabbed Adora’s arm and pulled her to face her. 

“I was in love with you.” 

There. She said it. The world didn’t end. 

Adora’s eyes widened and she stared. 

Catra crossed her arms. “Say something, you idiot.”

Adora pulled at one of Catra’s hands until their fingers intertwined and she stepped closer, “Remember how I said it was a good thing we changed and weren’t the same people we were in high school?”

Adora’s eyes were very pretty. “Yeah.” 

“If you kissed me now I wouldn’t leave you.” 

Catra swallowed hard, again. “Is that—that a promise, Grayskull?” 

Adora grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. “Yes.” 

Catra kissed her. 

The world didn’t end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there it is! happy january 11th! what was supposed to be a cute holiday fic is now wildly late but hopefully still bringing you some joy!
> 
> if you want to find us gals and read more of our stuff I would highly recommend following us on tumblr at  
> [@womenlovingwonderwoman](https://womenlovingwonderwoman.tumblr.com/) and [@iamascret](https://iamasecret.tumblr.com/)
> 
> but you should also give our other fics a read. [iamascret](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamasecret/pseuds/iamasecret) is writing a pacific rim au called [total synergistics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26625235) and a soulmate au called [a dangerous partnership](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951121) and I am working on a canon au where catra was raised in the rebellion. It's a series at this point and you can read it [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877491)
> 
> thanks so much for reading, commenting, kudos-ing, and since this is my final chapter any comment will give you 500 words (but on another fic not on this one so don't get excited, this one is done it's over it's finished, we're finished. one and done. over.)
> 
> hope to see you kids soon! <3 happy holidays!!!

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys, welcome to my and womenlovingwonderwoman's semi-late holiday fic! hope you really enjoyed it--let us know what you think :) it is the fluffiest dang thing that I have ever written, and I am living for it. 
> 
> the second chapter will likely be posted tomorrow. 
> 
> hope you had a wonderful holiday!


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